Harry Potter fans will recall that the publication of the sixth in the series was inexplicably delayed. Later it was reported that some copies were prematurely sold from a bookstore in British Columbia, Canada. What actually happened is somewhat different. In fact someone (a mischievous editor's assistant is suspected) had inserted into the final proofs an extra 70 pages or so, without of course the authorization of the author, J. K. Rowling, who was reported to be very upset that an entirely new subplot had been added, much of it obscene, involving underage sex, flagellation and various other illicit activities. Solicitors' letters were exchanged, and the publisher made an abject apology. But thousands of copies were printed before the error was discovered and the unauthorized passage expurgated. A number of copies of the unexpurgated version were accidentally shipped to Canada, with the result that some were sold, and Ms. Rowling sought and obtained an injunction to force the purchasers to return their copies. Now for the first time, the unauthorized chapters of the sixth book are now made available to the general public. * * * It was the start of sixth year, and Marietta Edgecombe was without a doubt the most miserable girl at Hogwarts. St. Mungo's had been a disappointment, to put it mildly. After a few days' treatment, the horrible eruptions evaporated as if by a miracle, to Marietta's great relief and her mother's expressions of joy. But the next morning when Marietta came down to breakfast, her mother shrieked in horror at the sight of her. Marietta ran to the nearest mirror, and collapsed in a fit of uncontrollable sobbing. "Whoever put this curse on you was no ordinary witch," explained Benevolena Vigora, head of the Extreme Curse unit at St. Mungo's. "How do you know it was a witch and not a wizard?" Marietta had maintained a pretence that she did not know who had cursed her. She had trouble articulating why she did so, but perhaps her blind unreasoning fear of renewing Hermione's wrath was one of the reasons. She dreamed of Hermione sometimes, invariably wetting the bed when she did so. "I'm not certain", replied Benevolena. "I could be wrong. But whoever pronounced this maladicta went straight for your face and only your face. This in my experience is more typical of a woman." By now Marietta was used to the healer's frequent use of Latin terms, an unfortunate trait Benevolena shared with some of her more pompous Muggle counterparts. But she was a superlative healer, and no one cared about her eccentricities. Benevolena continued. "I have tried everything in my power to help you. Given that the sequella commenced at school, I naturally assumed that a student was responsible. I thought a simple counter-curse would do, but I was unperturbed when the obvious remedies failed, and revised my assessment to the extent that I supposed that a particularly gifted student had done a good researching job before cursing you. But I was stunned, as you recall, when the Purgatio charm not only failed, but backfired, resulting in a modified and more verbose version of the curse. "Your enemy had anticipated my use of an extremely rare healing charm, and had placed on you a second curse, one designed to be triggered by the Purgatio. This is not completely unknown - I have seen it in the literature. But to combine it with a delay mechanism, so that you for a day thought you were cured, only to wake up the next morning with the words, "Still a Sneak!" on your face, was brilliant - and unbelievably cruel. It was also without precedent. "I have searched through our entire library, and found nothing describing a curse of this subtlety. After publishing a paper on your condition, I consulted with my counterparts at every medical facility in the wizarding world, and in this much at least we are all in agreement. You have been subjected to a curse of unprecedented power, by a witch of singular skill, possessed of great hatred for you. I do not say that I cannot cure you. "It is rare that a non-fatal curse cannot be cured. But for the first time in my professional life, I am afraid. Yes, I fear to make further effort. I ask myself, 'How many levels does this curse have? If I try a more subtle remedy, will this too have been anticipated? Will an even more severe reaction result if I attempt again heal you?' So you see, Marietta, while I do not despair of your ever being healed, it may be best that another approach be tried aside from the medical." Marietta had begun to sob slowly as the healer pronounced was sounded like a sentence worse than death, condemned for life to walk about the world disfigured. Marietta had been a very beautiful girl and had had many admirers. Now boys turned away from her in disgust. She'd stopped dying her hair, and it was no longer the curly-haired strawberry blond of the previous year, and it had reverted to its natural red colour. She found it hard to bother with make up or her appearance generally, feeling it was pointless. Benevolena paused while the poor girl composed herself. "But what can be done?" asked Marietta. "If you can determine who did this to you, you must go to her and placate her any way you can. Beg, grovel, debase yourself - whatever it takes to appease this powerful witch. No one curses without motive. You have obviously given very serious offence, and if you search your conscience you might find the answer. You must find this witch, and if you do not know what provoked her, you must learn it, and make amends, any way you can. The only alternative to this is to spend years, perhaps decades, searching for a cure. I do not rule out that by the time you are healed, your best years will have passed you by." As Marietta made her way back to the dormitory after the start of term feast marking the beginning of her sixth year, she though again with dread about Benevolena's words. She knew the healer was right. Benevolena of course did not know that Marietta knew perfectly well who had cursed her and why. As was by now usual for her, Marietta was deeply withdrawn into her own thoughts, and as she trudged to her room she was but dimly aware of the looks she was getting, some pitying, others mirthful (the Slytherin girls in particular took great delight in pointing and laughing at her, happy to see what had been the prettiest girl in Hogwarts brought low). She sat on her bed for a while. She knew what she must do, but the thought of doing it made her dizzy with fear. She opened her trunk, and pulled out a large bottle of a deep purple fluid. Her hands trembled and it was difficult for her to uncork the bottle. While at St. Mungo's the day before leaving for Hogwarts, she'd gotten access to some ingredients, and had whipped together a Fortitudo potion (Hermione was a better student that Marietta, but only by a very narrow margin). Now she opened it, and downed a full cup. She quickly dashed of a short note, ran to the Owlry and before her artificial courage failed, sent Cyfaill, her barn owl, on its way with a small package containing the note. She had also slipped her wand into the package. She managed to make it back to the common room in time to dash to the bathroom, and vomit her start of term feast. She remained there for a long time, dry heaving. She took a powerful sleeping draught when she returned to her room, and quickly fell into a deep, dreamless, almost comatose sleep. Harry, Ron and Hermione were at breakfast the next morning, cheerfully tucking into a wonderful meal of their favourite foods. Ron chattered on excitedly about the great summer they'd had, careless of the crumbs dropping from his mouth. Harry hardly listened, stuffing his face with sausages and toast. They barely noticed the owls arriving, or the package dropping into the lap of Hermione who, expecting nothing in the post, opened the package curiously, catching the wand as it dropped out. "A package from Olivander's?" asked Harry. "You'll never guess who - it's from Marietta!" "The not-so-golden-snitch!" laughed Ron. "Not much of a snitch, if you ask me. Who'd want to catch her now?" Harry and Ron chuckled together. Hermione didn't join in. She didn't find anything funny about Marietta. Hermione was as angry as she'd been at end of term. "She wants to meet me," said Hermione, "but what on earth is she giving me a wand for? Surely she must know I have a perfectly good one." Harry shared her puzzled expression. "Really," said Ron, delighted for once to know something Hermione did not, "You'd think you didn't know anything unless it came out of a book," he said to Hermione. "When two wizards are having a duel or a fight, and one gives his wand up to the other, it means he surrenders. Obviously Marietta is telling you she surrenders. Obviously she's sorry and wants to talk to you." "I see - it's the wizarding equivalent of a white flag!" said Hermione. It was Ron's turn to look puzzled. The note was a bit hard to read - the handwriting was something of a scrawl, but it asked for a meeting during the first free period that morning, on the grounds next to the lake. "Do you want us to come?" asked Harry. "What, to protect her from a wandless witch covered in pustules?" said Ron. Hermione ignored him. "Thanks, Harry, but I'll be just fine. I hope she tries something. I'd love an excuse to curse her again. I'll see you both at lunch and tell you all about it." * * * Later that day Hermione met Harry and Ron at lunch. "The healers at St. Mungo's tried everything, but they couldn't cure her," said Hermione. "It never occurred to me that the curse would be that difficult to undo. I mean, I made it as complicated as I possibly could, and I had a lot of fun setting traps for anyone trying to undo the curse, but I never thought that after two months the healers would practically give up on it!" Ron and Harry exchanged looks. "Hermione, you should know how advanced you are. You already are way more advanced than the average adult. You must have known that if you really put your mind to it, you could create a curse that would be incredibly tough to undo," said Harry. Hermione was hurt by the undertone of reproach in Harry's voice, but she knew he was right. Two thoughts opposed each other in her mind, the first that the curse on Marietta was nasty and even cruel, the second that Marietta had richly deserved it. "But what am I going to do? I said I'd help her if I could, even though I detest her," said Hermione, for a change quite at loss. "I shouldn't have said even that much. She deserves what she got. But I suppose now I have to try to help her." "You're going to have to do what you do best - go to the library, and start looking for an answer," replied Harry. And that is what Hermione did. Once she resolved to tackle the problem, she felt better about the chances of finding a cure, thanks to a project she'd created for herself. All summer she'd been working on a charm she'd invented, and of which she was quite proud. She'd even broken the stricture against under-age wizarding to develop it, going to areas frequented by wizards to practice the new charm, for if she'd done it in her own home, where she was the only non-Muggle, the Ministry would have been on to her instantly. That night with the help of Harry's invisibility cloak, Hermione went to the library after hours, and with her under the cloak was a large cube of glass. When everything was quiet and the librarian gone, Hermione took off the cloak and got to work. It was time to try out the new charm. She walked through the library, and with a few waves of her wand, caused every book to be bathed in a soft blue light, and when the entire library was glowing, she said, "Indexus!" and pointed her wand at the cube she had brought with her. The air was filled with blue streaks flying back and forth from the books to the cube. When Hermione had indexed a few issues of the Daily Prophet at The Leaky Cauldron, it had taken only seconds. But in this case it looked like it was going to go on forever. Hermione eventually put the cloak back on and went to sleep on the floor. She never noticed that there was never any exchange of light between the cube and the restricted section. She woke up just before dawn, and the exchanges between the cube and the books had by then stopped. She picked up the cube and headed back to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was in heaven. She now had in her hands the entire library of Hogwarts (or so she thought), the largest library of magical literature in the world. It was searchable, too. Once again she found herself thinking about just how much the wizarding world was missing by ignoring Muggle learning. There was nothing that fancy about the charm she'd created (at least not in her estimation). It's just that no other wizard had ever thought of it. No wizard ignorant of the Muggle world could have possibly come up with the idea. She had three hours to work on her research before everyone else would be up. By the end of it, she had her answer. She had another meeting with Marietta scheduled for that day. The meeting the day before had gone very badly. She had not realized just how emotionally damaged Marietta had been. The Marietta she had known had been confident to the point of arrogance. Tall and beautiful, she had walked about Hogwarts like she owned it, with all the boys staring at her as she passed, the girls exchanging jealous looks and making catty comments. What's more, she was a first rate student. Only Hermione had exceeded her performance on the OWL's the year before, and that was with Marietta working under the handicap of a horrible curse. But yesterday, Marietta had come across quite differently. She was a shattered remnant of herself. Hermione noticed right away the trembling in Marietta's lip and hands. They had walked together into the woods, down a path and into a clearing that gave them a little privacy. "Marietta, you're trembling - are you ill?" Marietta's answer was a sob. At first she could only make inarticulate sounds. When she finally could speak it was very, very hard to listen to. Marietta pleaded with Hermione to lift the curse - only Hermione could cure her - Marietta hadn't asked earlier - had been scared even to write to her, let alone meet or speak - had learned her lesson - would never, ever even think of breaking her word or telling on someone. The apology went on and on. At first Hermione felt nothing but contempt and anger, but as Marietta continued it surprised Hermione to find it felt as demeaning to her as it was to Marietta. Marietta's head was bowed, her voice low, but insistent. "But Marietta, what makes you think I can cure this curse, if the healers at St. Mungo's can't?" asked Hermione. "Oh but you can you must surely the person who put the curse on another can take it off oh please Hermione you're my only hope. . ." Marietta had dropped to her knees. She grasped Hermione's hand and redoubled her pathetic entreaties. Finally Hermione said she would see what she could do. She dropped Marietta's wand on the ground next to the broken girl. "Be here at the same time tomorrow," said Hermione, and with that, turned and walked away, leaving Marietta to compose herself as best she could. Hermione found herself regretting her promise almost instantly. When they met the next day, Marietta had improved somewhat. Having come through her previous meeting with Hermione without having been blasted by another curse, and having heard that Hermione was willing to help, she was beginning to feel hope again. They walked through the woods, and Marietta waited respectfully for Hermione to speak. "I discovered a cure, two in fact, but we have to have a clear understanding before we go any further. The cure I propose to use, if I decide to cure you, is called the Reconcilio Ritual. It requires great skill and co-operation by both of us". "What on earth is a 'ritual?'" asked the puzzled Marietta. Hermione explained further. "We've never studied Rituals. They're not taught at Hogwarts. They are simply too difficult and even dangerous. They involve multiple spells, often using combinations of potions, charms and counter-curses. Occasionally certain words must be spoken, even though the words are not part of a spell, but a mere recitation. The Ministry does not allow anyone to engage in a Ritual unless special permission is granted. The Ritual we need to use is virtually unknown. There was only one reference to it in the library, a situation where a witch, a professor at Hogwarts in fact, had viciously cursed a fellow professor. The healers could do nothing. If the curse had been left on much longer, there was danger of permanent damage. The two professors agreed on this much, that the "cursee" had given offence, and that the "cursor" had overreacted in her choice of punishment. She was agreeable to lifting the curse, but still felt that severe punishment was required, and that her victim would be getting off lightly if the curse were lifted and no substitute punishment found. In order for the Reconcilio Ritual to have effect, the victim had to undergo a different form of punishment, sufficient for the witch to feel satisfied and even sorry for the victim. This was the easy part. The rest of the Ritual involved a difficult potion and a succession of charms. The first few are quite simple, but the other are easily NEWT level. I've never made the potion before - the ingredients are rather rare - and the charms were ones I'd never even heard of. Both of us have to perform each charm to perfection, and both have to help make the potion. "You'd agreed to help, but now your talking about 'if' you cure me. But haven't you already forgiven me?" Marietta looked crestfallen. "You're wrong. I'm as angry as I was at end of term," said Hermione with great vehemence. Marietta stumbled backwards, terrified. "Please Hermione don't please-" "No, no don't worry I'm not going to blast you," said Hermione, "but that doesn't mean I've forgiven you. I feel just like the witch in the book I read. I'm a long way from feeling sorry for you. What you did was so wrong - you betrayed us. You could have had us all expelled, or worse." Marietta began babbling apologies again. "Don't bother. It's getting tiresome. If you want me to even try to cure you, just listen. Did you hear me say at the start that there were in fact two cures?" "Yes I did I wondered about that - " "Quiet, Marietta," said Hermione calmly. She found having to talk to Marietta distasteful, and wanted to keep the exchange as short as possible by stopping all interruptions. Marietta instantly stopped speaking. Hermione continued. "From now on, if I ask you a question that calls for a simple 'yes' or 'no', then I want to hear 'Yes, Hermione', or 'No, Hermione'. Do you understand?" "Yes, Hermione" said Marietta at once. She was untroubled by being ordered about by Hermione. She had had all summer to grow accustomed to thinking of Hermione as her natural superior. "The second cure is rather simpler. It simply requires a good healer and my cooperation. Now, the healers at St. Mungo's would have known this straight away. Did they ask you if you knew who had cursed you?" "Yes, Hermione." "And they told you that if they could find out who'd cursed you, they could perform a counter curse, using the caster of the curse as part of the spell?" "Yes, Hermione." "Did you tell them my name?" "No, Hermione," said Marietta, shaking her head quickly back and forth, looking very alarmed. "Now for a difficult question, Marietta. Please give me a completely honest answer as to why you didn't give the healers my name. You knew it would have quickly led to a cure, and a hearing for me at the Ministry for using an illegal curse. I would have been expelled, that much is obvious. The more serious question was whether I would find myself in Azkaban. You would have had your revenge. So tell me why you kept silent. If I am not satisfied with your explanation, if I think you're holding something back or prevaricating in any way, I am going to turn around and leave you just as you are, forever. Start talking." Hermione like using the imperative, and it was giving her the greatest pleasure to watch Marietta do what she was told without hesitation. "Yes, Hermione. I don't want revenge on you. You cursed me for snitching on you and all the other members of Dumbledore's Army. I deserve what happened to me. I did it to myself - the curse automatically attached to me when I broke the promise I made when I signed on with the DA. I'm to blame. You didn't pick me to be cursed - I picked myself. I'd like to think that the reason I didn't give your name to the healers is that I've learned my lesson, and that I will never snitch on someone ever again. I really want to believe that. It certainly is true that I will never again betray someone's trust. But I can't say that this was the main reason I kept my mouth shut, or even part of the reason." Marietta paused for breath, tears streaming down her face, and then she continued. "The only reason I can say for sure I didn't name you is that I am completely, utterly terrified of you. You are not only the best student in the school, you are far more ability than anyone I know outside Hogwarts, and I think your powers even exceed those of some of the professors here. "Until the day I die I will never, ever knowingly say or do anything to make you angry with me. Please Hermione, I will do anything you ask to show you how sorry I am that I crossed you and the others." Hermione was secretly very pleased with the complement paid to her. She knew Marietta was too petrified to waste her breath on idle flattery. "Good. I'm glad we got that out of the way. If you had tried to say that you didn't tell on me only because you'd become a better person, I would have known you were lying. I don't think your answer could have been more truthful than if I'd given you Veritaserum. I'm also glad that you mentioned that you'd not only crossed me but the rest of the DA as well. It's important that you understand that. I will try to cure you, but the next step is up to you." Not having been invited to speak, Marietta only looked expectantly at Hermione. "As I said earlier, you still must be punished in some fashion that to me will seem a suitable replacement for the curse I placed on you. The ritual requires that you, not I, pick the punishment. I suggest you think carefully over this. Take as much time as you need. You might be spending a lot of time in the library, don't you think?" "Yes, Hermione." "If you choose a punishment that doesn't satisfy me, the ritual will simply not work, and you'll have to pick another punishment and try again, so I suggest you get it right the first time. Now hold still," said Hermione, suddenly pulling out her wand. Marietta remained still with the greatest difficulty as Hermione approached her. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. What was Hermione going to do now? She struggled not to flinch, and was baffled when suddenly Hermione expertly performed the Purgatio charm. Marietta stood there in stunned silence - she could actually feel the blisters leaving her face. "But Hermione - why? It doesn't work - they'll be back tomorrow, maybe even worse than before! - are you punishing me even more?" "Meet me in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom early tomorrow morning, two hours before breakfast. Tomorrow when you wake up, the words 'Still a Sneak' will be back - nothing worse than it is now. I'll cleanse you again tomorrow morning and each morning thereafter until we've cured you." "Bless you Hermione, I will never forget this!" cried Marietta. Hermione was already regretting her impulsive gesture, but she would keep her word. Readers may send comments to the author by email to suprapubic_cystotomy@yahoo.ca